Breathe In the Air
by hobbleit
Summary: Dean has an asthma attack whilst on his own. AU where Dean has asthma, pre-season one. crappy summary isn't it? Title from the Pink Floyd song of the same name.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A while a go I wrote a story for a comment meme on lj where Dean has asthma. I'm continuing this now. This is set pre-season one when Sam is at Stanford**

**Breathe (In the Air)**

**Chapter One**

Dean always knew when an attack was coming on so he knew when to get his medication. It always started with a tight chest followed by wheezing before the full on attack started. This usually gave him time to find his inhaler and stop things before they got too bad. It didn't always happen like that though. There were occasions when he lost his inhaler or left it at whichever motel they were staying at that week, or even if he was on a hunt and it was in his jacket which had been left in the car. It was in cases like that when Dean ended up in hospital and he hated it more than anything.

He had been asthmatic since he was a small child. He had vague memories of being held by his mother as he struggled to breathe, her soothing words to calm him down until the medication kicked in and he was able to breathe again. After his mother died everything changed. Although his father didn't dismiss his asthma completely, he wasn't as gentle and caring once he was on his own. There were nights when all he wanted was for his father to comfort him during an attack; especially when they were bad, to hold his hand and tell him everything was okay but that never happened.

Once Sam was older he was able to help Dean keep control of things. He always kept a spare inhaler on him in case of emergencies and Dean had forgotten his. Dean would tease him about his Nazi like control of everything related to his asthma but he was grateful to Sam for his help. He certainly did need it at times.

But when Sam left for college, everything once again changed. His father became more reckless in his attempt to find the demon that had killed Mary and could barely look after himself never mind Dean when he was sick. Dean; therefore, became more self reliant in controlling his asthma. There was no-one else to help him otherwise.

There were times when this became hard. It seemed as though his attacks were becoming more and more frequent and worse every time. Several times he had found himself laid up after a hunt because he had difficulty breathing and on many occasions he felt as though his chest was going to explode, it felt so tight. He never told his father though in fear of being thought of as weak and unable to do the job properly. So he pretended that everything was fine and that this asthma didn't really bother him.

That was until he had the worst attack of his life.

John was away on a hunt, leaving Dean in this god forsaken hellhole masquerading as a motel room because he had been feeling under the weather. Actually; under the weather was a bit of an understatement because Dean felt as though he was dying. His chest was constricted and his lungs full of phlegm. It was the worst he had ever felt, just taking a breath made him want to cry in agony. His inhaler had long since been discarded when he discovered it did not have any effect on his aching chest. So he just lay there on the lumpy bed with the foul duvet covering him and he prayed for this to end.

He looked at his phone and stared at Sam's number, wanting nothing more than to call him but he knew that would be the wrong decision. Sam was living his own life now, he didn't need his big brother anymore and Dean didn't want to be a burden.

So he just lay there, unable to move anywhere and listened to the sound of his own rattled breathing. He stayed there until it became too much and he let the darkness take over him. He lay there until housekeeping opened the door and found him barely breathing; his skin tinged a deadly shade of grey and his lips blue. He didn't feel the paramedics gently lift him from the bed and place him on the gurney. He didn't realise that he was being taken to the hospital. He was dead to the world and just did not care anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Disclaimer (since I forgot it last chapter) I don't own Supernatural, I'm just playing. Next chapter will be up when it has been written**

**Chapter Two**

Sam had been studying for an exam when the phone began to ring. Initially he was going to ignore it; he was so caught up in his reading but it just would not go away. Sighing heavily he grabbed his phone and answered it.

"Hello?" He said wearily.

"Good evening," a female voice came down the other end. "I am looking to speak to Sam Noble."

"That's me, who is this?"

"You are listed as the contact for your brother, Dean Noble. I am Doctor Smith and he was brought in earlier this evening."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, the panic making his voice rise. A million different scenarios began pouring through his mind. What had happened? Had he been injured on a hunt? What had hurt him? Was it a spirit?

"Your brother was found in a motel room in town suffering from a massive asthma attack."

"He was alone?" Sam asked in shock. Where was his father, why had he left Dean alone?

"Yes he was. If the maid had not entered when she did then he may not have survived."

"Where are you?" Sam asked as he quickly stood up and pulled a bag from under his bed and rushed over to the chest of drawers. The doctor gave the location and hung up the phone. Grabbing random clothes out of the drawers; he shoved them into the bag.

His roommate entered their room and stared at Sam frantically throwing clothes into his bag.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Pennsylvania," Sam replied.

"What's in Pennsylvania?"

"My brother. He's sick," Sam explained. "Just got a call from the hospital."

"The brother you never mention? Sam, it's close to exams and your just running off to see someone you haven't spoken to since you got here?"

"He's on his own," Sam told him as he checked his wallet was still in his jacket. "He needs someone to watch out for him. Can you speak to my professors; let them know what's going on?"

"Sure thing."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Sam told him and headed towards the door.

"How are you getting there?"

"Bus," Sam said.

"That'll take too long."

"Well it's not as though I can afford the plane ticket."

"I'll lend you the money."

"No, that's too much, I wouldn't feel comfortable."

"Then it's just as well you don't have a say in the matter," his roommate said as he picked up the phone. "I'll book the ticket, just get to the airport."

Sam smiled gratefully at his friend and hurried out of the room, he knew he would have to make it up to him somehow. He hurried to the airport to catch the flight.

* * *

Sam arrived at the hospital early the next morning after stopping at a motel to freshen up. He had been told that Dean had been moved overnight from a regular ward to the ICU since his condition had taken a turn for the worse. He had not been able to get much out of the nurse on the reception desk so he hurried upstairs to find his brother.

He looked in a bad way, this could not just be his asthma; Dean looked far worse than he had ever seen in his life. It scared Sam to see his big brother look so frail. His skin was grey and his eyes were sunken. The lower half of his face was covered with an oxygen mask.

"You must be Sam," he heard a voice from behind him. He recognised it from the woman he had spoken to on the phone the previous evening.

"How is my brother?" He asked; his voice full of concern for his sick older brother. "This wasn't just an asthma attack was it?"

"Apart from the asthma attack your brother had an underlying chest infection for several days which has turned to pneumonia. He's very sick right now and we're pumping him full of antibiotics but all we can do is wait and see if they have any effect. I'll leave you alone with him for a while."

"Thanks," Sam said as he sat down next to Dean and stared at him. "How did it get to be this bad?" He sighed. "Can't you ever just let people know when you're feeling bad? Why do you always ignore everything until it all comes crashing down around you?" He asked without any anger in his voice. He was worried and he still didn't know why Dean was on his own. Where was his father?

"Dean, can you hear me?" He asked but Dean did not respond. Whatever drugs they had him on had left him completely out of it. "Please get better," Sam said in a small, almost childlike voice. He just wanted his big brother to be okay again.

* * *

Dean felt as though he was floating. The pain had gone and for the first time in days he felt relaxed and at peace. Deep down he knew it was just whatever drugs he was on but at this moment in time he just didn't care. It felt good for him to be this out of it.

He could hear someone's voice faintly in the distance. He couldn't make out who it was but it made him feel relaxed. They were calling to him asking him to wake up but he didn't want to. The voice was full of concern and love but that didn't matter, waking up would be too painful.

The voice began to grow stronger and Dean tried to shy away from it. He knew he was beginning to wake up and he didn't want that, not yet. He groaned and tightened his eyes trying desperately to stop himself from waking up.

"Come on, Dean open your eyes," he heard the voice again. It was more familiar this time and he knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Sam?" He slurred as he finally lost the battle to sleep and he slowly drifted back to consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter three (finally). Wasn't home much last week so only just finished writing it. I have decided that it needs to have a plot as well as me just shamelessly causing Dean angst :D**

**Chapter Three**

Sam immediately started to hover over Dean once he began to come round; much to Dean's annoyance. He may have been still pretty out of it but he felt uncomfortable. He tried to bat Sam's hands away but he found his own limbs were too heavy to move. In the end he just gave up.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked. Dean could hear the scared tone in his voice.

"Mm fine," Dean replied groggily. He was obviously lying and Sam could tell.

"Of course you are," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "So you're not in hospital covered in more tubes and wires than I've ever seen before? 'Cos it kind of looks like you are."

"All part of the plan, little brother," he slurred; his eyes half closed. He was looking ill; his skin was almost as white as the sheets he was lying on.

"Plan for what?"

"Too make all the hot nurses fall madly in love with me."

"Maybe you shouldn't do such a good job next time," Sam smiled; glad his brother was awake and joking around.

"Yeah," Dean smiled then he started to wheeze. His chest was feeling tight, tighter than it had done before and it was hard for him to breathe. Sam immediately leapt up and pressed the button to alert the nurses.

"Are you okay?" He asked; the fear rising inside him. Dean did not reply, the wheezing was becoming worse by the second. He clutched at his chest trying desperately to find some sort of relief but none came. He could feel the blackness begin to envelope him as he tried desperately to stay conscious but he was fighting a losing battle.

Sam was pushed out of the way as the medics took charge and began to work on Dean. Sam stood back and looked on; terrified at what was happening. He had thought Dean had grown out of his asthma years ago but in that moment Sam realised that Dean had simply chosen to hide it from him. He wondered if he hid it from dad too. No doubt he had otherwise he would have been with Dean when he fell sick and not off one whatever hunt he was obviously on.

He stood there for what seemed like forever, feeling so completely and utterly helpless with the situation. He watched as the doctor's seemed to move by in slow motion, trying to help his brother. He silently prayed to God that his brother would be okay. He didn't realise how much time had passed until the doctor was stood in front of him, looking at him sympathetically.

"We have managed to stabilise your brother."

"What's wrong?"

"There have been some complications from the pneumonia and your brother is having some difficulty breathing."

"Will he be okay?"

"We need to keep a very close eye on him for the next few days," the doctor avoided directly answering his question.

"So all we do is wait and see?"

antibiotics and wait for them to kick in. Your brother is a fighter; I have no doubt of that. I will be back in a little while to check on Dean," the doctor told Sam before leaving.

Sam sat back down next to the bed and stared at his brother. He looked worse than before; if that was even possible. His skin looked grey and waxy; he was covered in tubes and it took all of Sam's strength not to cry. He felt useless; no, worse than useless as there was nothing he could do. No monster to fight, no ghost to salt and burn and no-one to stand there and tell him it was all going to be all right. He grabbed Dean's phone from the cabinet by the bed and dialled his father's number; knowing his dad would be more likely to answer if he saw Dean's number than his own.

No-one answered though and the call went straight to answer phone. "Dad, it's Sam. Call me when you get this; Dean's in the hospital, he had an asthma attack and it's pretty bad. Please call back," he added at the end; it sounded almost pleading but Sam didn't care. He just needed to talk to his dad. He turned back to Dean and sat there in silence, just watching his unconscious brother.

* * *

Donna could feel something watching her and it made her feel uncomfortable. She couldn't see it but she knew it was there, lurking in the shadows and waiting to strike. It was ingrained deep inside her like a cancer eating away at her insides.

She strained her eyes trying to see whatever it was but there was nothing there. She thought that she could hear something but maybe it was just her mind imagining things that weren't really there. Donna tried to shake it off as paranoia but there was a part of her that would not admit this, a part that believed there was something out to get her.

"Hello?" She croaked, her voice not wanting to work properly; almost seizing up with fear. There was no reply but she felt a cold rush of air brush past here and she knew she was not alone.

Donna threw back the covers of the hospital bed and attempted to get out. She was thrown back against the mattress by the invisible force and was pinned down. Unable to move and finding it harder to breathe Donna began to panic. The invisible force began to take shape and Donna could finally see the body of a man even though his features were still obscured. He leaned down and covered Donna's mouth with his hand so she was unable to breathe.

She tried to struggle against him but it was no use, she was paralysed against him. He leaned further down and replaced his hand with his mouth. Donna could feel the life draining from her and she stopped trying to fight. Her eyes grew wide as she struggled to breathe even more. The man kept her pinned down until he felt her still.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Finally posting the next chapter. Was ill a few weeks ago and haven't really felt like writing. Not the greatest chapter, mostly there to push the story along a little**

**Chapter Four**

Sam heard the nurses talking about Donna's death the next morning when he was coming in to visit Dean.

"It's such a tragedy, she only came in for an appendectomy," one of the nurses told the other.

"What happened?" The other asked. She hadn't been in the previous evening and had missed all the fuss.

"Asthma attack, they say. The funny thing is she didn't even have asthma. I checked her medical records there is no mention anywhere."

"Then how?"

"No idea," the first nurse replied; obviously loving the fact the second nurse was hanging on her every word. "It is all very strange though."

Sam wondered what was going on for a moment before he remembered that was not his life anymore. He hurried past the nurses' station and towards Dean's room. Dean looked better than he did the previous evening; which was not difficult considering he had nearly died. He was awake but he did not seem quite with it. His eyes were partly closed, his face still covered with that damned mask.

"Hey," Sam smiled as he entered the room and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Great," Dean drawled in response.

"How's your chest?"

"Perfect."

"The doctor said that the pneumonia was making it hard for you to breathe. They upped the antibiotics they're giving you to fight it," Sam told Dean but he didn't get any response. "I called dad too. Just to let him know what was going on. He didn't pick up though so I left a message," there was still no response. Sam had been sure mentioning their father would get some sort of response from Dean. "Dean? Dean?"

"What?" Dean finally replied.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay? You seem weird?"

"Just the drugs," Dean told him. "Make my head foggy."

"Maybe you should get some more rest," Sam suggested. "I should leave and let you sleep."

"Tired of sleep," Dena mumbled as he lost his fight with sleep.

"You need to sleep."

"I know," Dean said as he closed his eyes and Sam saw his breathing even out. He then stood up and headed back out into the hallway. The nurse he had seen earlier was still at the reception desk and she was still telling the story of how she had found Donna's body. Sam shook his head and walked away.

"You have a roommate," Dean heard one of the nurses announce as he opened his eyes. He saw the overly perky nurse grinning from ear to ear like she always did. He inwardly groaned. He didn't feel like having to share a room with anyone, especially when he already knew they would get on his nerves.

"Great," he replied quietly; his voice dripping with sarcasm that the overly perky nurse seemed to miss.

The nurse stood by and watched as the orderlies wheeled a middle aged man into the room. She stayed until he was settled and then left the two men alone.

"What are you in for?" The man asked Dean. Dean almost groaned again. He was not in the mood for talking.

"Asthma," Dean replied, hoping that his answer would be enough to shut him up. He was wrong.

"I'm in because of my heart," he told Dean, who was clearly not listening.

"Fascinating," Dean said, the distraction evident in his voice. "I'm gonna go to sleep, feelin' tired," he told the guy, closing his eyes for added effect.

"Oh, okay," Dean heard him say as he lay there in silence and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Dean awoke to the sounds of his roommate gasping for air. He opened his eyes and saw the man thrashing around on his bed. Forgetting he was sick, he ripped the wires out of his body and rushed over. He was clutching at his chest, Dean could recognise the symptoms as an asthma attack but the guy didn't have asthma did he?

"Need some help in here," he called, wondering why the nurses weren't responding to the alarms going off.

Dean could feel his chest tighten too, he was moving too fast. "Help," he cried out again.

"Mr. Winchester, what are you doing out of bed?" He heard a voice behind him.

"Help him," Dean gasped.

"I think I need to get you back to bed," the nurse said as she tried to help him back to bed.

"Help him," Dean begged. Why was she ignoring the dying man in the bed opposite him? Couldn't she see what was happening right in front of her own face? He quickly realised she could see a damned thing as she pulled an oxygen mask over his face.

"Calm down, this isn't helping you. Just breathe," she said as she pressed the buzzer to call for further assistance.

Dean could only lie in bed in shock as he heard the poor man flat line and no-one even paid attention.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I wrote the vast majority of this chapter on the train journey back from Asylum. So if it's rubbish I'm blaming the lack of sleep over the weekend :D**

**Chapter Five**

They noticed eventually that he was dead. Not straight away, he lay there stone cold in his bed until morning when a nurse entered. Dean felt like yelling at her, shouting that he had watched him die, that he had been there all night but no-one seemed to care enough to check but he kept his mouth shut. He needed to speak to Sam. He rooted around for his phone before dialling Sam's number. He waited for a response.

"Sam," he said in way of greeting, "You need to get to the hospital now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam hurried to the hospital as quick as he could, thinking something bad had happened to Dean in the night. He was surprised to see that Dean seemed fine, still a little grey but on the whole perfectly well.

"What's up?"

"Dude, there is something weird goin' on here. Last night I watched a guy die but no-one else could see a damn thing. They didn't pick it up until about an hour ago."

"How'd he die?" Sam asked, a growing feeling of terror rising up in his stomach. He already knew what Dean was going to say.

"I heard the doctor say it was an asthma attack. Strange thing was he wasn't in for asthma, he had a problem with his heart. We gotta look into this, dude."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Sam tried to put Dean's mind off the thought of starting a hunt. Partly because Dean looked like crap but mostly because he didn't want to be sucked into that life again.

"Oh come on, Sam," Dean practically whined. "We can't just leave these people here to die."

"How do you know it's something supernatural? It could just be natural causes."

"Dude, I saw it with my own eyes. That guy died and no-one else saw it. They didn't pick up on it until this morning when he was long dead. Besides both he and that other woman died of an asthma attack but neither had asthma. There is something strange going on here and I'm not going to sit on my ass and wait for it to kill again."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Dean. I left because I didn't want this life anymore. Don't ask me to do this."

"Fine," Dean snarled. "Go. I'll do it myself," he said as he turned away from Sam.

"Don't be like that, Dean."

"What do you want me to do? Just ignore it and let more people die?"

"You're in hospital for a reason, Dean. You need to get better."

"I am better," Dean exclaimed, obviously lying.

"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed. Dean really did look like death warmed up. "You can barely sit up never mind hunt."

"I'll do this by myself," Dean told Sam. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Sam argued back.

"I don't see anyone else volunteering to help."

"Fine, I'll help," Sam almost shouted, taking his frustration out on Dean. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Go to the car and get one of my EMF readers. Just see if there is any spirit activity around."

"Just don't do anything stupid," Sam warned.

"Would I?" Dean tried to look innocent as he spoke but he failed.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," Sam told him as he exited the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam was not happy. He really did not want to do this. It was not supposed to go like this. He had been so determined to be normal, to not be sucked back into this life again. It wasn't him anymore. He would do this one thing for Dean and then he would be gone. Just as soon as he was sure Dean was going to be well looked after. Dean didn't have to know that.

There was a part of Sam that wished he hadn't come here. He had tried so hard to escape and it had seemed like he was succeeding. Now he was being sucked back in against his will. There was no way Dean was going to give up on this, he was like a dog with a bone once he got started on something so Sam decided the easiest thing for everyone was to just go along with it until John showed up.

If John showed up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean was feeling restless. He felt useless lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to all those wires and machines. He hated hospitals, they reeked of death and he wanted nothing more than to rip those wires from his body and walk away. He couldn't though, he could barely even muster the strength and energy to lift his head from the pillow.

It had been a hard few days. Dean couldn't remember his asthma being this bad. He hadn't had a full blown attack since he had been a teenager so he had assumed he had simply grown out of it. Until now that was.

What had brought it on? Dean assumed it was because he was feeling so alone. He had been feeling under the weather a lot lately, Sam was gone and John was never around. Dean must have really run himself down and he hadn't even noticed.

Dean remembered when he was young, before his mother died, she would hold him in her arms whenever he had an attack. He felt safe and loved then, like nothing bad could ever happen to him. Now he just felt empty and alone.

Enough of the self pity routine, Dean scolded himself. It wouldn't get him anywhere. Determined to do something, anything, he threw back the covers and attempted to get out of bed.

"And where do you think you're going?" He heard a voice at the door. It was the overly perky nurse from yesterday. "You're not well enough to leave."

"Just wanted to stretch my legs," Dean replied by way of an excuse.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," she told him as she gently pushed his shoulder down. He thought about struggling but he quickly gave up on that plan. He slumped his head in defeat. "Get some rest," she told him as Dean closed his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night Sam was trawling the hospital corridors looking for evidence of spirit activity. There had been nothing. No cold spots, no disturbances and the EMF was at zero. He was about to give up, he only had one more floor to check- Dean's.

Sam could feel the cold as soon as he stepped onto the floor. There was something there. He almost jumped when he heard the high pitched wail of the EMF reader, it had been a long time since he had heard it. He cursed himself for doing this whilst being so out of practice and carried on.

Sam could hear a pained groan down the corridor and he knew it was there. He hurried along the darkened corridor as he heard the groan turn into a breathless gasp, a person unable to breath and desperate for air. It sounded exactly the same as Dean when he had an attack. Sam saw a young man lying in bed and writhing in agonising pain. He was dying right in front of his eyes. Sam rushed over to the man but he knew it was already too late, his lips were blue and his eyes had rolled back into his head.

Sam grabbed the pillows and prepared to perform CPR but he felt himself being thrown backwards by an invisible force. He hit the wall with a sickening thud just as the heart monitor started its monotone whine. The man was dead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been a long and hard hunt for John Winchester. He was exhausted. He had regretted leaving Dean behind in that lousy motel room but he'd had no other option. Dean was sick and therefore a liability which John did not need on this hunt.

He picked up his phone for the first time in days and was shocked by the answer phone message that was waiting for him. It was about Dean being in hospital, which was a shock in itself but the most surprising thing was that the message had come from Sam.

* * *

**A/N 2: Ooh, John's in it now. Will he turn up to help his sons? Find out when I get around to writing the next chapter :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Erm... where does the time go? It's been months since I posted an update and I really have no excuse. Funny thing is I have the entire story written by hand, I just need to type it up. Hopefully I'll get it finished now, there are only two chapters left.**

Chapter Six

Dean noticed that Sam looked extremely shaken as he entered the room.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, his voice laced with concern for his brother.

"There's been another death," Sam explained, his voice quiet and scared.

"When?"

"Last night. Same M.O. as before. No-one else saw it but me, no-one helped him as he died," Sam sounded sad at the thought. "We need to find out who it is," he told Dean determinedly.

"Great, any ideas?"

"None whatsoever," Sam admitted. "I could head to the library and check for any other related deaths at the hospital."

"Sounds good. What do I do?" Dean asked.

"You can stay here and concentrate on getting better."

"What? That's crap and you know it. I can do something other than sit on my ass all day."

"You can't leave the hospital so that kinda stops you from researching and you can't get out of bed which kinda stops you from hunting. I'll be back in a few hours to tell you what I've found," Sam said to Dean.

"Great," Dean replied sullenly as Sam headed out of the room. "I'll just lie here and do nothing," he said as an afterthought, feeling dejected at being left alone yet again. He fiddled idly at the canula in his hand. He was bored. He was feeling useless and he was sick of it.

Dean grabbed his phone to check if there had been any messages left by his father. There was nothing. Dean clutched the phone tight before throwing it into the cabinet drawer beside his bed. He didn't want to wallow in his own self pity but it was hard not to when he was alone and sick. He just wanted to get out of here.

* * *

John was worried. Sam had left a message on his phone about Dean being in hospital and now he was feeling guilty about leaving him alone. John picked up his phone and dialled Dean's number, waiting for either Dean or Sam to answer. There was no reply though which made John even more worried. He should have stayed. He should have made sure that Dean was okay before swanning off on a hunt. He just hadn't seen it coming.

_Dean's breathing was wheezy and he knew what was happening. He was on the verge of an attack. He'd had a chest cold for the last few days and it was becoming worse no matter how many anti-biotics he threw down his throat. John was never going to let him go in this condition. Dean struggled out of bed, he was sweating and shivering at the same time. He coughed, trying to clear his chest but it didn't work. He felt as crappy as ever._

"_You look like crap," he heard John say._

"_Gee thanks," Dean croaked. "Really feeling the love there dad."_

"_You can't go on the hunt when you're like this. You're going to have to stay behind."_

"_I feel fine," Dean lied but he already knew what John was going to say. There was no way in hell Dean was fit enough to go on this hunt._

"_You're not fine, you need to get yourself better and you can't do that on a hunt. You need to rest for a few days until you're better again."_

"_Can't the hunt wait until I'm feeling okay?" Dean asked. It sounded like he was more disappointed about the hunt. In reality he just wanted his dad to stay with him whilst he was sick._

"_There'll be other hunts Dean," John replied, completely misinterpreting Dean's meaning. "And this is too important to miss out on."_

"_But..."_

"_I'll only be a few days," John told Dean as he slung his bag over his shoulders. "Just rest up and you'll be fine by the time I get back," John headed for the door. "I'll see you in a couple of days."_

_Dean stared at the door as his father left him behind once again. It was always the way. John was gone, Sam was gone and Dean was always the one left on his own. He felt dejected and lonely. All he wanted was for someone to care, someone to sit with him while he coughed up his lungs. But that never happened. He lay back down on the bed and wrapped the blankets tightly around him and waited for sleep to claim him._

* * *

Dean woke up just as Sam arrived back at the hospital.

"I thought you were going to the library," Dean said, surprised to see his brother back so soon.

"I did but I felt bad about you being on your own so I brought the information here."

"And you can just do that?"

"You can when you spend three hours copying the damned stuff," Sam explained with a grin on his face as he dropped a big pile of paper on the table in front of Dean.

"Thanks, you shouldn't have," Dean said sarcastically.

"You were the one complaining about being left out."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Take what you can get big brother," Sam grinned again as he picked up a pile of papers from the top and started reading.

Dean followed suit and began reading but he soon found himself feeling restless and becoming bored. He couldn't find any relevant information in these damned papers.

"Bored already?" Sam smirked, his voice full of amusement at Dean. He had never had much of an interest in the research aspect of a hunt.

"Leave me alone," Dean replied. "Gonna go to sleep."

"I'll just continue on my own then shall I?"

"Yeah, you do that," Dean told him as he closed his eyes, even though he didn't feel tired in the slightest.

"And how are you feeling today?" A voice came seemingly from nowhere. _Great, _Dean thought, perky nurse was back. He groaned but did not respond. "You look tired sweetie, why don't you have a little nap?" She said to him and Dean felt his eyes start to grow heavy.

He thought it was strange. A moment ago he had felt wide awake and now he couldn't stop himself from feeling tired. He didn't put too much thought into it as the darkness enveloped him and he fell asleep.

* * *

There was a dark shadow hanging over Dean, pinning him to the bed. He struggled desperately trying to free himself but it was no use. He was trapped. The shadow began to move down towards him, making Dean feel constricted. His chest felt tight and he couldn't breathe. He gasped for air but his lungs were empty. He tried harder to struggle but it only made things worse.

"Sa... Sa..." He gasped hoping his brother could hear him.

Sam looked up from his research and saw his brother gasping for air. The spirit was after Dean. Sam quickly leapt into action and grabbed the packet of salt he had bought on his way back from the library out of his jacket pocket. He quickly opened it and threw it at the air above Dean where he assumed the spirit was. Dean immediately stilled.

"Dean are you okay?" Sam frantically asked but there was no response. "Dean? Dean!" Sam repeated but Dean was still unresponsive to his brother's calls.

He would not wake up.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Last full chapter, only the epilogue to go :D**

**Chapter Seven**

Dean wouldn't wake up and it was beginning to really worry Sam. He had tried, the doctors had tried but they had all failed. The doctor's had told Sam there was no medical reason why Dean should be unconscious and they were at a complete loss as to why he was. Sam knew better though. It had been the spirit whoever it was. It had done something to Dean to force this unconsciousness on him. Now all Sam had to do was figure who this spirit was. Easier said than done.

Nothing was helping. The pages he had copied held no information relevant to the case and Sam was beginning to feel very frustrated by this. He threw the page he was reading down onto the table and leaned back in his chair as he ran his fingers through his hair. He was going to have to think of something else.

Sam stood up and stretched before heading out of Dean's room and towards the nurse's station. He saw the nurse from the other day, the one who was talking about the first girl's death. He decided to go up to her and ask her a few questions.

"Hey," he greeted her casually.

"Hello," she replied. "You're Dean's brother, aren't you?" She asked as though she got to know everything about the patients.

"Yeah, I am."

"Is everything okay?" Sam almost snorted at the perfectly innocent question. It was quite obvious that not everything was okay.

"Apart from the coma? Everything's great," Sam didn't mean to sound so glib.

"Sorry," she apologised. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Before the last attack Dean was upset about the guy he was sharing his room with, the one who died. I was just wondering what you could tell me about him."

"I'm not supposed to disclose that sort of information."

"It's just that Dean said he died of an asthma attack but he wasn't in for asthma. How could that be?"

"It was the ghost," the nurse blurted out, obviously not intending to. She blushed slightly thinking that Sam thought she was mad to say such a thing.

"Ghost?" Sam tried to sound surprised.

"There was a nurse, worked here way back when and she died on this floor," the nurse repeated the often told legend. "A patient attacked her and it brought on an asthma attack. She dropped dead before anyone could help her. They say she still haunts the floor seeking revenge on the patients."

"That's an interesting story," Sam said. "Does this ghost nurse have a name?"

"I don't know," the nurse confessed. "All I know is that she died about seventy years ago."

"Thanks anyway," Sam smiled. At least now his search had been narrowed down slightly. He just had to search for the death of a nurse seventy years ago.

Sam spent the rest of the day sitting at Dean's bedside trawling through the old newspaper articles he had copied. Dean never stirred once and that worried Sam greatly. He kept finding himself staring at Dean's frail form. He looked so young and Sam had never seen his older brother look so vulnerable. Dean was usually so tough, so full of life, always with a grin and a cheeky comment. No matter how hard life had been growing up Dean had been a constant presence in Sam's life to make everything better. Now it was up to Sam to do the same for Dean.

Sam felt the tears well up in his eyes and he roughly wiped them away. Now was not the time to break down, he had to concentrate on finding this bitch and saving Dean. He owed his brother that much.

* * *

Dean felt weird watching himself lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He could see his brother desperately trying to help and Dean wanted to tell him not to worry, that everything would be all right but he was scared. No, scratch that, he was terrified. He didn't want to die.

"You will be mine eventually," Dean heard a voice behind him.

"Why am I not surprised it was you?" Dean said as he turned and saw a young woman standing behind him wearing a nurse's uniform. Her hair was tangled with blood, a gaping wound in her side. "You were just far too perky," he sneered. The perky nurse who had been annoying Dean since he arrived at the hospital was standing right in front of him. Of course she had been the spirit all along.

"Not so much now," she replied. "He can't protect you forever, you know. I will have you eventually."

"You can't get past salt or iron, Sam will make sure you don't," Dean told her, a sarcastic grin on his face.

"You will never wake up. One more attack and you're dead."

"I wouldn't count on it, I'm pretty tough."

"You can't beat death."

"No but I can fight."

"You can only fight for so long. With the others, I had to force it on them. Make them have an attack when their lungs were healthy. With you it's different. You have the same affliction I did. You could have another attack at any moment and I won't have caused it. You'll die of an asthma attack and they won't see anything suspicious in the slightest. Your body will give out eventually."

"We'll see. As soon as Sam finds you, you're gone."

"He won't," she smirked. "I'll make sure of that. You might be well protected but he isn't."

Dean rushed forward to attack her but she disappeared before he could reach her. He felt sick inside. He wondered what she was planning to do to Sam. The worst part was he had no way of warning Sam of any impending danger. He turned his attention back to his brother. Sam had found something. He was staring intently at an article before jumping up in triumph.

"I found her," he announced to his unconscious brother. "I know where she is. I can get to her bones. Don't worry, you're gonna be okay, I promise."

There was a part of Dean which felt relieved. If Sam could get to her bones before she got to Sam then everything would be okay again. On the other hand, however, he was still worried about what that ghost bitch was going to do to Sam.

* * *

It had taken Sam most of the day to find out where she was buried. It turned out that the nurse he had spoken to about the ghost legend hadn't been wrong. The only part she had been missing was a name.

Rose Harrison had been a nurse at the hospital in the 1930s. A lifelong sufferer of asthma, one day a mentally unstable patient had attacked her and stabbed her. She died on her own from an asthma attack before anyone could help her and now she was a pissed off spirit.

Once Sam knew her name he quickly found out where she was buried. Then all he needed to do was find her grave. That part took the longest since quite a few of the graves were completely unreadable. He finally found the grave in a secluded spot at the back of the cemetery. Satisfied this was the grave, Sam began to dig.

It was hard work digging up a corpse when you were doing it all on your own, Sam realised and he quickly found himself tiring out. He persevered on though, thinking of Dean. He could have cried in relief when the shovel hit the coffin.

"Gotcha," he smiled.

He leaned down and opened the coffin to reveal the skeleton. Sam scrambled out of the grave as quickly as his tired body would allow him and headed over to his bag to grab the gas and lighter. Suddenly, he felt someone grab him from behind and he cried out as he was thrown in the air. His body connected with a nearby tree and he fell to the ground.

"Damn it," Sam groaned. Rose was here and she wasn't going to make this easy for him. He felt himself being lifted from the ground once more and thrown across the cemetery.

Rose rolled him over and placed her hand on his chest. Sam couldn't breathe as he felt his chest tighten. Was this how Dean felt every time he had an attack? If it was Sam felt a whole new rush of sympathy and respect for Dean for having to deal with this all his life. He struggled for breath as he tried to fight back but it was no use. Rose was going to kill him. Everything started to go black as the fight in him started to wane. Sam closed his eyes and gasped one final time as he prepared himself for the end.

It never came though. He felt the weight on his chest being released and the air rushed back into his lungs. Sam gasped for a few moments, waiting for his vision to clear. He blinked a few times until he could see without dark spots swarming over his line of vision and then looked up. His father was standing over the freshly dug grave.

A million feelings rushed through Sam as their eyes connected. Just seeing his father again made him feel like a child. John didn't speak, he simply nodded at his youngest son before he turned and silently walked away. A world of unspoken words passed to Sam from that nod. I love you. I'm sorry. Sam felt the tears form in his eyes once more as he rose to his feet and staggered away in the opposite direction.

He wasn't going back.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Just a very short epilogue to round the story off. Hope you've enjoyed the story x **

**Epilogue**

Dean woke up early the next morning feeling better than he had done in what seemed like forever. He was on his own however. Feeling intensely worried for his brother, he grabbed his phone and dialled Sam's number. He felt sick when it went straight to voicemail, what if something bad had happened?

"He's okay," Dean heard a familiar voice. He turned and saw his father stood in the doorway. "The spirit's gone."

"That's good," Dean replied quietly. He didn't feel like celebrating in the slightest. He looked at his father, feeling angry with him for leaving him alone when he was sick. When he needed his father to be there for him to make sure he was okay. Dean was angry for all the times John had left him but he didn't say anything. Instead, he pushed his feelings to one side and became the person his father expected him to be. He was far too used to it.

"When can I get out of here," he simply asked.

* * *

Sam slowly and deliberately packed his clothes into his rucksack. He wasn't sure he should just up and leave without checking on Dean first but he felt it was the right thing to do. He was going to leave anyway so there really wasn't any point prolonging the inevitable agony by saying goodbye. He would just quietly leave and let Dean live his life. Hunting wasn't his world anymore.

Although he would never admit it, he had secretly enjoyed the last few days with his brother. He wished it hadn't been under such awful circumstances but he enjoyed spending time with Dean. A small part of him considered staying if only until he knew Dean was completely okay but he knew if he did then he would never leave. He couldn't risk being sucked back into that world again. Besides, their dad had shown up so he wasn't really needed anymore.

Sam didn't look back as he left. It was for the best. He checked his phone and saw that Dean had tried to call him but he resisted the urge to call back. He simply sent a text message

_See you soon, Sam._


End file.
